


Full Moon Blues

by OrionRedde, Shyrstyne



Series: Cometverse [13]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werecreatures, Gen, Transformation, mild body horror, there are Consequences for not shifting with the moon, what you though this was going to be easy?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-27 01:18:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18293912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrionRedde/pseuds/OrionRedde, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shyrstyne/pseuds/Shyrstyne
Summary: there are consequences for not shifting, and Sora hasn't shifted for a year. he seeks safety with the only familiar person he knows - you.





	Full Moon Blues

   “Comet?”

   Feeling a sense of profound deja vu, you glance over at the door to your living space. Sora - and he finally has clothes that fit him a little better - is standing nervously just inside your living room. He anxiously fiddles with the belts attached to his shirt, avoiding eye contact and shifting from foot to foot.

   “Yeah? What’s up?” you answer, feeling worried despite yourself. Sora looks frightened and that sets off every Big Sib alarm. You pat the couch cushion next to you. “Here, kiddo, come sit.”

   Sora immediately comes over, now visibly distressed, and buries his face in your shoulder, curling his fingers into the material of your jacket. He’s shaking.

   “Hey, hey, hey, cub,” you murmur, looping you arm around his shoulders. Sora hides his face in your neck, sniffling. You rub his arm, pressing your cheek against his head. “Hey, c’mon, what’s wrong?”

   “Sorry,” Sora hiccups, sitting up enough to scrub tears from his face. “I just… I’ve been asleep for a  _ year.  _ I didn’t shift at  _ all.” _

   “And what does that mean?” you ask quietly, gently gripping the back of his neck. Sora sniffs, wiping his nose.

   “It means I’ve been  _ suppressed _ ,” Sora explains, looking increasingly upset. “It means next time I change, it’s gonna hurt a  _ lot.  _ It’s never hurt before!”

   “You wanna stay here, then?” you ask, getting to what you hope is the root of the problem. “We’re not in Traverse Town, anymore, but my den is still open to you, Sora.”

   “Is… is that okay?” Sora asks, shy again. 

   “Of course it is!” you huff, locking your arm around his neck and using your other hand to noogie him. Sora laughs and tries to bat your hands away. “I don’t make the offer lightly, y’know!”

   Sora giggles again, grinning up at you.

   “Thank you, Comet,” he says, clouds clearing from his face. You crane your neck to check the calendar you have by your door.

   “Full moon’s tonight,” you say aloud. “You wanna stay up here? Get Donald and Goofy to keep you company? I usually close the bar early on full moon nights, anyway. Most of my clientele happens to be weres, and they get rowdy during full moons. I’ve got a few spare blankets in the linen closet you can use for a nest, too.”

   “You’re the best, Comet,” Sora tells you seriously, purring slightly. “I’m gonna go get Donald and Goofy!”

   “Alright, li’l man,” you laugh. “I open the bar at two and close at nine tonight, just so you know. I’ve got some leftovers in the fridge you can eat.”

   “Awesome!” Sora chirps, clambering off the couch. “I’m gonna go get ‘em!”

   “You do that,” you tell his retreating back, smiling wryly. He barely changed, but what he said about “suppression” and being asleep for a year worries you. You resolve to discreetly ask about it with weres you know and trust. 

 

   “Yeah, it’s not good,” one of your regulars, a werewolf named Adira, tells you. “It happens, sometimes. A were doesn’t change for one reason or another. It can be anything from their body being unable to support the change to somehow ignoring the moon. Naturals like me change without issues, but if one were to be suppressed, it would massively suck.” She sips her whisky, thoughtfully. “It’s like when you’re a kid and you get a big ouch for the first time, like an ear infection or some shit. It’s not right, and it’s never been not right before, and there’s nothing you can do to change it until it passes. The longer they avoid the moon or the change in general, the worse it gets.”

   “Oh, ouch,” you wince sympathetically. 

   “It’s good you’re helping this cub, whoever he is,” Adira continues, looking at you with intense violet eyes. “He definitely needs a pack around him tonight. It’ll help.” She drops some munny on the counter, as payment for her drink. “Thanks for the whiskey, sweetheart. Good luck with the cub.”

   “Thanks, bitch,” you say dryly, gathering the munny.

   Adira sneers at you in good humor, giving you the finger as she stalks out of your pub. You snort and check the clock. It’s almost nine o’clock. The pub is very much empty. You figure you’ll close early, then.

   You lock the door and flip the sign. You finish up on chores, thankfully not having much to do because you got most of it done within the past hour or so. Taking one last look around the bar - doors locked, tables clean, fridge stocked - you head upstairs. 

   A very worried Goofy meets you.

   “He okay?” you ask, hanging your jacket up by the door.

   “Sora’s been on the couch almost all day,” Goofy tells you. “He doesn’t look too good.”

   You bite your lip and walk into the living room. Sure enough, Sora is on the couch, bundled in almost every blanket you had stored in your linen closet. You can see him shivering from where you’re standing. You can even hear his shuddering breath. His face is pale, sweaty, and pinched, like he’s trying not to be sick. Donald is pacing in front of the couch, arms linked behind his back. He sees you and waddles over.

   “Will Sora be okay?” the duck rasps at you. You sigh, shoulders drooping.

   “He’ll be fine,” you tell them both. “It’s just going to be rough for a little bit until his body gets used to changing again.” You approach the couch, kneeling next to Sora’s head. You place your hand on his forehead. He is  _ definitely  _ feverish, but you know there’s nothing you can do to help besides be here. Sora’s eyes blink open, focusing in your general direction.

   “C’met?” he whispers, voice thick. “Don’t… feel good.”

   “I know, kiddo,” you answer him. “Your body’s just a little out of practice, is all.” You check your watch. “Almost moonrise, kiddo. C’mon.”

   You help him peel out of blankets. He’s wearing the old grub clothes you’d stolen from Cid as pajamas. Sora clings to you, arms around your neck, as you slowly pull him off of the couch. Donald and Goofy come forward, carefully moving furniture out of the way as you scoot Sora into the middle of the room. Then they kneel next to you and Sora, putting hands on his arms and shoulders. Sora shudders, whimpering.

   “It’s okay, Sora,” you tell him, rubbing his back. “We’ve got you.”

   Sora whines, then gasps, fingers gripping your shirt. Something in his lower back pops, and he arches with a cry. He sobs, shivering, and releases your shirt, curling forward and tucking his hands close to his chest, face pressing against your shoulder. 

   “Hurts…!” he gasps, hands crunching and snapping out of your sight. “ ‘s not... _ supposed _ ...to hurt…”

   “We know, Sora,” You whisper, rubbing his back.

   “It’ll be okay!” Goofy soothes.

   “You can do it!” Donald puts in.

   Sora takes a deep breath, calming himself, and sits up. His face is flushed, wet with tears. His mouth is full of sharp teeth, amber fur blooming around his jaw. His hands are warped, joints inflamed. His fingertips are strangely swollen, hiding his nails. You suppose it’s the beginning of his retractable claws business.

   “I can do it,” Sora repeats, even as he sways in place. “Okay. Okay.”

   He leans forward again, falling onto his hands and knees. You follow along, scooting on your knees until you’re on one side of him, Donald and Goofy on the other. Sora grabs your arm with one hand while Donald and Goofy grab his other. He takes a deep breath.

_    “AUGH!”  _ Sora shouts, spine  _ snapping  _ as it suddenly arches up, vertebrae visible from beneath his shirt. You jump, gripping Sora’s hand. Sora wheezes, breathing heavily, then yells when his back crunches again, lengthening and curving. He whimpers, shaking, as fur slowly crawls down the back of his neck and arms. You feel his hand crunch and pop in your own, slowly morphing into a much bigger paw. You can feel the rough pads on the underside of his hand. He flexes his hand, and you can see his claws poke out. His arms crackle like glow sticks and you can  _ feel  _ them lengthen, fur blooming over skinny muscle and tan skin.

   Sora huffs and pants, gathering himself as his body pauses in the transformation. His arms are way too long, hands oversized and definitely more paw than hand. Amber fur covers his arm and neck, just reaching up to his jaw. He let’s go of your hand to awkwardly paw at the collar of the shirt. You and Goofy help Sora out, gently tugging the t-shirt off of him.

   His ribs are enlarged, visible beneath his tanned skin. The fur has covered his entire back and is still slowly crawling down his body, patches appearing in random places on his torso. There are tear tracks on his face, but they are contrasted by the determined expression on his face.

   Once the shirt is off he falls down on all fours, despite trembling arms. You place a hand on his back, ignoring the sensation of cartilage popping. There’s a few minutes of silence, then Sora huffs, strained, and rolls his shoulders forward. You can feel his shoulder blades pop and snap beneath your hand as they bow forward, forming a shape more suited to walking on all fours.

   Sora balances up on his toes, lowering his torso as his spine pops and cracks, vertebrae raising down his lower back. He whimpers, curving his tailbone down, arching his back. His legs bend inward as the bones crackle, knees crunching. You spot something snaking down the back of Sora’s leg, probably his tail. His feet laboriously lengthen, toes swelling and ankles thinning out. Sora is almost completely covered by fur, now, leaving only his face untouched.

   He slumps, panting, muscles rippling underneath his skin as they slowly catch up with the change, adjusting to new bone structure and bulking up. Sora whimpers, the sound morphing into a  _ ryowr  _ of distress when his pelvis snaps, cracking back into shape. He mews again, head hanging low as his cheekbones pop out at odd angles.

   “Almost done, Sora,” you soothe, running a hand down his back. “Almost.”

   Sora whimpers and yowls as his face slowly pushes out into a boxy snout, teeth lengthening and ears slowly crawling up the side of his face. Drool pools out of the corner of his mouth, mixing with the tears running down his face. He wheezes, unable to close his jaw as it juts out.

   Then it’s over.

   Sora slumps to the side and you just barely catch him. He whimpers, limp in your arms. He barely reacts when Donald and Goofy carefully tug the ratty sweatpants off of him.

   “Sora, are you okay?” Donald asks, a little badly timed, in your opinion.

   Sora whimpers, nuzzling into the nook between your arm and body.

   “That was  _ awful, _ ” he rasps after a moment. “I  _ never  _ want to do that  _ again. _ ”

   “You’ll have to, cub,” you regretfully inform him, gently scritching his ruff. “Your body has to relearn how to shift. It’ll help if you do it outside of the moon.”

   “I don’t  _ wanna _ ,” Sora whines, curling up in your lap, despite being way too big to do so.

   “So-ra,” Donald scolds.

   “We’ll help you through it, Sora!” Goofy enthuses. 

   “Thanks, guys,” Sora says, turning his head to smile at his friends. “I really appreciate it.”

   His belly growls. Sora pins his ears back, embarrassed. Goofy chuckles, patting the jaguar’s head.

   “We’ve got some food, if’n ya want it!” Goofy tells him.

   “Yeah,” Sora yawns, reluctantly climbing off of you. “That sounds great.”

   “I’m surprised Donald didn’t burn down my kitchen,” you drawl. Said duck squawks indignantly.

   “I would  _ never! _ ” he snaps.

   Sora giggles, limping slightly as he walks to the kitchen. You note that he’s almost up to your hips in wereform, now. Sora eagerly eats the roast Goofy had made, even eating some of the potatoes on the side. You finish your meal and head back to the couch before the trio does, nudging aside the truly ridiculous pile of blankets Sora had gathered.

   Well, actually…

   You pick your favorite one out of the pile and wrap it around your shoulders before sitting down, curling up against an arm of the couch. You don’t have a book on you, so instead you reach down and recline the portion of the couch you’re sitting in, snuggling down into your blanket and closing your eyes.

   You blink your eyes open to darkness and snoring. You look to your left, towards the rest of the couch. Donald and Goofy, each wrapped up in their own blankets, are leaning against each other and clearly fast asleep. Sprawled out over all three of your laps is Sora, purring quietly. His head is in your lap, and you can see his hands flexing in his sleep.

_    Oh my god he’s kneading the air,  _ you squeal internally. 

   You free up one of your hands to dig into Sora’s shoulder fur, scritching deep into his ruff. His purring gets a little louder, and he tilts his head back. You tickle his chin before threading your fingers into his hair. He nuzzles into your lap, settling back down with a deep sigh. You tilt your head back, closing your eyes.

   Not the easiest night for Sora, but he’ll be okay.

   You drift off again, lulled by the sounds of snoring and purring. Thank the stars tomorrow’s Sunday.

**Author's Note:**

> yo you thought this au would be sweet forever? nah, son. nah.  
> anyway if a were doesn't shift with the moon, usually because their powers are suppressed or sealed, the next shift is going to Really Hurt. the longer one is suppressed, the worse it gets, and for a born were like sora a shift has never hurt before. but it'll be okay, dudes, sora will get back in top shape in no time.


End file.
